


Familiarity

by Sagittae



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5726500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagittae/pseuds/Sagittae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t realize how easily things start to fall into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> **[A/N]:** Hello! It's been a while, but this is something that wouldn't leave me alone! Sorry that it's so short. I know that this kind of clashes with some things that happened in the show, but oh well?? All and any mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

The idea of living with Ichabod Crane didn’t exactly have her jumping for joy.

Yes, they were friends, and yes, they had been close before she joined the FBI. Keyword being: _had_. After Katrina’s death, he had all but disappeared from her life. She knew that he needed time, and she respected that. However, meeting up with him in the local prison house in Sleepy Hollow wasn’t really how she thought they would reconnect.

At first, she couldn’t help but be a little angry at him for not even trying to keep in touch with her. Then she became frustrated with herself for letting them drift apart to the point of unfamiliarity. Although, she figures that nine months of no communication would do that to anyone – and that she and Ichabod would just have to suffer through those uncomfortable car rides and silent meals.

And at first, they do.

He shoots her quick glances on the way to her house while she pretends to focus on the road. She watches him pause during certain tasks around the house, looking lost. He raises a brow at the level of her new authority, but says nothing. She doesn’t comment on the way he refuses to touch her kitchen knives. And they tiptoe around one another for the first week, as if he didn’t know that she took sugar in her coffee or that she had no idea that he liked to stay up and read until 2AM. The tension between them was awkward, to say the least.

But it dissipates as soon as it began.

* * *

 

During the second week of living with him, she finds him cleaning the windows and doing chores around the house. Part of her wants him to stop, but Abbie knows that he’s trying to perform the tasks as some kind of payment for letting him stay with her. It was that damn built-in prideful mindset that clung itself to the whole chivalry bullshit he had always carried around with him.  

So when he nearly floods her house with foamy froth from the washing machine, she chooses not to confront him. Instead, she leaves tips on sticky notes that provide proper measurements of detergent and what cycles are best for certain clothes.

She ignores the tingle in her chest when she comes home one day and sees her clothes neatly folded on her bed.

However, she can’t help the smile that spreads across her features when she finds her bras and underwear – untouched, clean, and still sitting at the bottom of the laundry basket.

* * *

 

It’s a little over a month when they start having regular meals together. They text more frequently, even if it is just regarding small things, like who will get the groceries or if the other can pick up something on their way back to the house.

On Fridays, they usually get take-out from the Chinese place down the street from her office. He tells her to order extra dumplings as if he intends to eat them, but it isn’t until the third time around that she realizes she’s the only one that touches them. In return, Abbie gets them both noodle plates that she never manages to finish. Ichabod gets used to munching on her leftovers.

One week, she has a tough night at work doesn’t return home until almost midnight. Earlier that day, she messaged Ichabod not to wait up. Their exchange is shorter than she would’ve liked.

_Can’t make it tonight. Lots of work._

_That’s quite all right._

_It’s Friday. Sorry._

_I am sure that you are very busy. Do not fret. Have a good evening, Miss Mills._

_Thanks._

Later, Abbie walks through the door, dragging her feet across the threshold sluggishly, but freezes when the smell of beef and soy sauce reaches her nose. When she walks into the kitchen, she sees Ichabod sitting on a chair at the island with a book in his hands and takeout boxes placed in front of him. She smirks when he looks over his shoulder, sends her a smile, and gestures to the seat beside him.

They stay up until two in the morning, snacking on fortune cookies and drinking cheap beer, while taking turns at talking about how their days went.

* * *

 

He’s there when she gets discharged from the hospital, taking the small amount of clothes and possessions that Jenny had brought for her while she was admitted and carrying them for her without commenting. She walks with him absently, finding his ramblings and chatter relaxing after her ordeal. She occasionally puts in a word or two to keep the conversation going.

It isn’t until they’re seated in the car that he finally turns to her and asks politely, “Where would you like to go, Miss Mills? Perhaps to search for a more substantial food source?”

She chuckles, and shakes her head. “Nah. Let’s go home.”

* * *

 

Six months later, Abbie has the day off. No monsters, no drug dealers, and no Ichabod, as he was over at the local university to apply for a teaching job.

She takes this as a chance to rearrange things, but finds herself with little to do. Abbie washes the dishes and places Ichabod’s mug on the cup holder next to hers. She takes the books on the coffee table, pushing them back into the shelf, while she leaves the ones they have both yet to finish. Her favorite jacket is taken from the couch – where it was last abandoned, and hung up on the coatrack, slightly covering Ichabod’s brown coat.

When she goes to take a bath, she doesn’t look twice at the mess of bottles on the vanity, some belonging to her and others to him. After a long soak, she washes her face and brushes her teeth, then exits the bathroom after leaving her toothbrush next to his grey one.

When Abbie steps back into the living room, she realizes that Ichabod has returned when she notices his boots sitting beside hers at the door. And as if sensing her presence, his familiar voice calls her from the kitchen. “Miss Mills?”

It’s only then that she steps back and finds herself slightly surprised at how little the small space resembled her old home.

Yet, she can’t say she really minds.

 


End file.
